Caradoc Dearborn: Never Forgotten
by measurebeyondwit
Summary: A series of drabbles, not in any particular order, in reference to the Order member Caradoc Dearborn. He lived, he breathed, he loved, and he died. (Some Mary MacDonald/Caradoc Dearborn)
1. Holding on, and letting go

The air was cold, colder then it actually would be to anyone else walking outside during this time of night. But their situations and experiences weren't even close to Doc's. They hadn't gone through what he had been through, and they weren't about to have their future potential child stripped away from any realm of being. But they were outside, some people at least. It was late, and many of them were breaking curfew, but Doc was never one to follow the rules. Actually, he couldn't remember a single rule that he had followed. Except maybe laws, you know, like not killing people, although he frequently thought about it. He wasn't a bad person, he was just arrogant, and apparently incredibly selfish.

* * *

Truth be told, Doc had thought about children once or twice. Before he believed in love he didn't think children would be appropriate. He couldn't bring them into a world where love didn't exist, and hatred won. But now, with Mary, he sort of hoped for it. In the future of course, and he wouldn't sabotage her into it. He knew how she felt about kids and marriage, but his views were constantly changing. Really, he wouldn't quite have minded holding a little baby girl in his arms, Cara, Doc thought, that would have been the perfect name for a girl. It was the first part of his name, but it was girly enough! But she would have been beautiful. He probably would have to keep her locked up so no bloke in the future would take away her innocence. He knew how blokes acted, especially blokes that just wanted one thing.

The thought made him shiver, and then Doc realized that it was pointless to even think about it. Mary didn't want a baby, wouldn't have a baby. Even if he pleaded, which he most certainly would not do, she couldn't do it. He knew, and he understood, but it still hurt. There would be no Cara. There would be no cuddling. No waking up at god awful times in the morning. No bedtime stories. No kisses. No hugs. No nothing.

A tear managed to slip out of his right eye, and he hastily wiped it away. Maybe he did just want a family for selfish reasons. He hadn't had a family for a while. They had all been lost to the hatred of the world, and he was left with nothing but their gravestones. Wasn't it natural to want to replace them? To want to move on, and fix old wounds? But it was selfish, incredibly selfish. He could never let Mary go through with it if she didn't want the baby as much as him, and maybe he'd just have to accept, but he didn't necessarily have to like it.

Doc got up from his shadowed place by the Beech tree. The lake was glimmering in the moonlight, and there was no longer a trace of any humans being present. He was alone. So he did what he always did when he felt this low. Doc grabbed a bottle of firewhiskey that he tucked under his jacket, popped open the lid, and drank. It was a heavenly burn, a familiar burn, an easy pain to deal with. Much easier than the world around him.


	2. Fragile Heart

It had only been a couple days since the "incident" as Doc liked to refer to it in his head. But it felt like months, years even. Apparently it was a difficult thing to fully grasp your head around the fact that not only did your sort of girlfriend not love you, but she also didn't believe that you were capable of the feeling yourself. It was sort of like being hit blind side first, and then getting stabbed in the back. There was nothing a person could do in that sort of situation. Hell, he hadn't even meant for it to spew out like that, but it did, and he couldn't remember a situation where he felt singularly more vulnerable. He was at her mercy, to do with as she wanted, and instead of at least simply believing him, which he could have lived with without a response, she denied him of his own feelings as well as her own. Nothing was more painful than that.

Doc wasn't doing well, although he tried to put a perfectly placed mask on so no one would catch on. He didn't want people to know. Not because they would find out that he actually did believe in love, which at that point he wasn't so sure about, but because he was denied completely. He put his heart on his sleeve and it got ripped off without a second thought. His worst fears had been realized. Doc knew he never should have believed in any of that love rubbish, hell he was even doubting the whole going steady thing that like an idiot he proposed! He should have known that his feelings would run more deeper then hers. With each emotional step he had been the one to take the plunge, and this time he wouldn't be able to emerge. He was going to drown in the feelings that he had so long tried to keep at bay. His dams were breaking down completely, and a simple outstretched hand might not be enough to save him this time.

The only good that had come from any of this Doc supposed, was the fact that now he could take his mind off of his lack of family during the Holiday season, and worry instead of his lack of a girlfriend. Or, sort of lack of a girlfriend. They had never been particularly good at labeling what they were, but now Doc was just more confused. If he continued in the relationship he was sure to get more hurt. Hell, he would give Mary all the time she needed, but at what expense to him? A person can only take so much heartache, and so much abuse, before they crumble completely.

Hearts are fragile things. If they are misused or miss given they could be lost forever, never to be fully replaced. There is a large price to be paid to be in love, and it is a love that isn't reciprocated then the heart itself slowly gives way. Hearts need to be cared for with caution, and nurtured like children. If one is neglected, it surely won't live long, and neither will its owner. Perhaps that is the lesson people should learn most, and Doc certainly did. Give your heart with care, and caution. It cannot be chucked around to anyone who stays in your life. It must be a thought out decision, made with complete precision. Otherwise it's open to take in wounds that could never fully repair. Especially with a heart like his, that already had so many holes that could never be complete mended or filled. His heart was delicate in a way that he could never show himself to be, but once out in the open for all to see, Doc broke down as well.

Another day had passed, and more regret seeped into Docs head. If he could do anything to turn back time, he would. Maybe his mind wouldn't be as free, but his heart might have felt a bit more full. Even a simple glance at Mary's blonde hair had him in complete pieces. He felt weak, and woozy, and that's why he decided to stay in his Dorms, and lock himself in. Doc didn't even want to think about Mary, but it was her and her alone that infiltrated his thoughts and dreams. Most consisting of her uttering 3 simple and dangerous words. But they were just that, dreams. Hopeless dreams. If ever Doc felt like crying, it was the moments after he woke from those dreams, and realized that they weren't real, and might never be. Some might have called him womanly and weak if he ever admitted to it, but all men can be turned into putty. It just takes a certain woman. The tricky part is being formed back together.


	3. Realities of Love

Everything had turned blurry. There was no floor, there was no ceiling, there was just an overwhelming feeling to flee. And flee he did.

* * *

Moments after watching Mary walk away, he felt his legs give out. He couldn't stand anymore, he could barely breathe. He felt like he had just been crushed by a 10 ton giant. Never before in Doc's life had he ever openly admitted to loving another person. If he had it had usually been for kicks and giggles. Love was never in his vocabularly. He didn't believe in it, didn't want to believe in it. People lost their lives and their minds to love, and he had never wanted to become a mindless zombie walking around the earth trailing after someone. But it was far too late for him. Perhaps it was far too late for him years ago, with the cliche love at first sight. Or maybe it was once Mary started to notice him, and bicker. Really though, it was the first time she spoke to him like an actual person, like he was more than just a bloke who potentially just wanted to get into her pants. She had been one of the few to truly see him as he was for a while, and she had been the person who had been with him through the worst. But she wasn't with him now.

The floor was cold, but Doc was numb to it all. He had moved his back up against one of the stone walls, and sat unknowingly shivering. Partly from the cold, partly from the amount of emotion that was now pouring from his body. He couldn't believe that he had just spouted the three words out like that, and he was even more in shock over the fact that he had actually meant them. What he wasn't surprised about was Mary's reaction. Loving a person like him certainly would never be an easy thing to do. He was arrogant, and conceited, not to mention selfish. He could never have expected the words to flow from her mouth, but deep down he still wanted to hear them. He still wanted the reassurance that perhaps it wasn't just him going crazy, and that maybe she felt the same way.

An unwanted tear slid down his cheek. Doc might have made a move to wipe it away, but he felt paralyzed. If losing his family had been bad, then this pain seemed excruciating. He wasn't just losing someone, he was losing a piece of himself with each foot step that he knew she was taking. Part of his heart was being ripped out with each intake of breath, and part of his soul was disintegrating with every tear that slid down his cheeks. Doc never asked for much, he just wanted to be wanted, and in those moments he felt anything but. A simple question destroyed something so beautiful, so what hope was there for the rest of the world?

He finally felt his legs again, and eventually his arms. He brushed off the tears that had formed on either side of his head, and sat up. He wasn't numb anymore, he just felt empty, tired even. Like the entire world had just been set back onto his shoulders, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to carry it or not. Doc finally stood up, and looked around briefly. The corridor was still empty, not a soul was in sight. Silently Doc almost wished that someone had been there, that he might have someone comfort him the way that his mom had done so many years ago, and the way that Mary had recently. But they both had slipped through his fingers, and neither of them would return. One because death had clutched them, and the other because they knew better then to love a twisted soul.

Doc's legs started to walk, and then eventually settled into a full out sprint. He didn't go back to his dorms though, he went out into the winter air, where snow was on the ground. He wasn't wearing a jacket, but he wasn't feeling much at that point to really care. He kept running until he found the tree that he and Mary had kissed under so many months ago. He quickly sat down, and gathered himself up into a tight ball. He hated feeling this weak, but all of the fight that had been in him this morning was gone. If death had taken him then, he wouldn't have put up a fight.


	4. A Friend Indeed

The news was hitting everyone hard. It was unexpected, sickening, and it brought reality rushing back down onto all of them. Even Doc was feeling the aftershocks of Doe's attack. He knew how tough of a witch she was, and how powerful she could be if she wanted to. Out of all of the people to be attacked, he really had hoped it wouldn't have been her. And it wasn't just because she was his best mates girl. It was the fact that they were sort of becoming mates, good mates actually. Hell, their conversations might lead people to believe that they might have been the best of mates, the way they were able to tease each other without having feelings getting hurt. The truth of the matter was, he had started to care about her. In the most platonic way possible of course.

The walk down to the Hospital Wing was eerie. Everything suddenly looked more dangerous, and less homely. People had been murdered and tortured behind these walls. They were no longer a symbol of comfort, they were a symbol of the war that had now stretched its ruthless arms into the castle. Doc might have tried to keep things light, but in a place filled with darkness, even the brightest of lights look dim.

Not a soul could be found as he crept his way into the Hospital Ward. Visitors of course weren't being let in at this sort of hour, but for some inexplicable reason, Doc found a large need to see the girl whom he would now consider a friend. Maybe he was a bit of a masochist for wanting to see her in a state that wasn't pleasant, or maybe he needed the proof that things really were this bad. The attack on Megan earlier in the year had woken him up, the death of his parents broke him, the murder shook him, but he wanted the attack on Doe to send a shock down his spine. He wanted to know why this was happening, why they were the ones having to deal with it all when they were still just children.

The door squeaked open, and Doc slipped through the small crack that was created. He saw Doe, sleeping soundly on a hospital bed, and quietly walked over. She looked much worse then what he was expecting, but his eyes didn't move. His insides however were moving. He felt sick to his stomach, and yet dangerously angry as well. This was his friend. His girlfriends best mate, his best mates girlfriend, hell, she was friends with almost everyone. "Why?" He whispered into the dark thick air. The question would perhaps never be answered, and maybe that was for the best. Sometimes a person never wants to know the real answer to the question, sometimes a person doesn't want to have to question at all.

Without fully realizing it, one of Docs hands reached out and lightly held hers. It was more for his own comfort than for hers, but he still couldn't help but feel even worse. She was alive, and not well, but definitely alive. But she was so broken looking. There were scrapes and bruises, and scars that would perhaps always be there if it weren't for magic. Just looking at her made him feel like a piece of his heart had just been torn. No one deserved this, except perhaps maybe her attackers. Her attackers. The anger coursed through his veins again. There were people in this castle roaming the Halls, very much alive, and very much well, perhaps not in the head though. They weren't caught, they probably knew they would never be caught. Doc removed his hand from hers, and walked in the opposite direction of the door. He started to pace. The anger never used to be this substantial. There was a point in his life when he could never find it in himself to be angry, but now it just seemed to consume him in every way possible. Little things triggered him, and large things seemed to put on a timer on him. He was a bomb waiting to explode.

Suddenly Doc heard footsteps, and then the Hospital Door opening, and finally the sight of Mary. He hadn't seen her in a day or two, although he had meant to owl her. He knew how close she and Doe were, so it wasn't surprising to see her sneaking in. "She's sleeping" He spoke softly, but still loud enough for waking people to hear. Then he saw Mary jump, obviously not expecting to see someone else here late at night. "What are you doing here?" She asked, but seemingly knowing the answer before asking. "I'm visiting Dorky of course, same as you" Doc walked over to Mary while saying this and without hesitation, pulled her into a hug. "She'll be alright, Mac. Dorcas is a fighter"

He held Mary there for what seemed like the longest time, hearing her sobs although he knew she was trying to keep them quiet. He himself felt a tear slide down his face. He felt Mary's pain, and suddenly it became his own. And as selfish as it sounded, he felt a slight victory of the fact that it wasn't Mary in that bed. But his thoughts didn't drift much further. Doe was still sleeping, and still hurt, and everyone was would always be hurting it would seem. Doc figured that there probably wasn't one completely happy person in the world. They all had dark pasts, or deep secrets they didn't wish to share. But now they all had similar fears, and similar pasts. Murders, attacks, green marks across the sky. The world was growing darker, and so were the thoughts that passed through everyone's minds. Even Doc's mind had become more serious and less mischievous. It was hard to pull a prank when people he loved were falling all around him.

Eventually Doc and Mary had pulled up a seat and were curled around each other next to Dorcas' bed. Neither speaking, neither smiling, both depending on the other to keep them grounded. They needed each other, to get through this, and to get through everything else in the future as well, although they might not know it yet. Then, before they left, hand in hand, Doc walked closer to the bed and put down the pair of underwear, that he had found under his bed so many days ago, on her bedside table. Hoping that she might understand that he had been there, but also hoping that maybe a smile would be on her face when she saw it


	5. The First of Many

Kings Cross stations was crowded. It was an early morning rush, and the family of 4 danced around the crowd. They had been to this station before, and the parents had been to the platform that was necessary to catch the train. Neither of the 2 little boys had ever seen such a site though. The eldest, Doc, was 11. He was getting ready for his first year at a school called Hogwarts. His little brother, Stephen was there as well. He was unlucky and he was 3 years away from going to Hogwarts. Hogwarts, to the regular every day ear didn't sound normal, and it wasn't normal. It was a school of magic. You see, Ophelia, Alexander, Doc and Stephen Dearborn, they were all witches and wizards. The best place in all of Great Britain to get a magical education was Hogwarts, and Doc couldn't wait to get started.

* * *

Doc and his family continued racing through the crowd until they got to a column that was position between Platforms 9 and 10. His parents had a knowing smile on their faces, and quickly checked around to make sure no one was watching them too closely. Then, Doc's father, Alex, quickly gave Doc and Stephen these simply instructions, "Now, to get to Platform 9 3/4 you must run through this wall. Make sure it's quick so others wont see you" He then pushed his sons forward, and Doc hesitated before doing exactly was his dad said. His dad would never lie to him about something like this. So, Doc got a running start, and just as he thought he was going to impact on the concrete columns, he closed his eyes and ran through.

Once he deemed it safe he opened his eyes and almost passed out at the site. Thousands of people it seemed were there, all for one specific reason, their children that would be leaving until the next Holiday. Doc moved a bit further from the column as he heard the rest of his family come through, and he turned to them with wide eyes. "I never want to leave" He told them. He really did want to leave, but the site was extraordinary. The thick smoke filled the platform, and revealed a scarlet colored train that made a distinct impact on all of those who had not seen it before.

Quickly Doc's parents brought his trunk to the train and placed it on board, noticing that it was getting closer to 11 then they had realized before. They both took Doc in their arms and hugged him close, both saying their I love you'd, goodbye's, and we'll see you soon's. Then Doc and Stephen, always close, embraced the way only brothers could. No words were said, but they would miss each other. They were inseparable during the summer, and an entire year away from the other would be hard, but they'd make it knowing that Christmas wasn't too far away.

Doc's family then left, his mom getting a bit tearful, and his younger brother looking like someone had stolen his candy. They were leaving, but now was the time for Doc to board the train. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and stepped on board, quickly maneuvering his way past people, looking for an empty compartment, or at least one with first years. Finally he spotted one that had 2 other boys in it, both looked to be similar to his age, so he opened the door and simply said, "Is it alright if I sit here?" They both smiled at him, introducing themselves as Matt Jarvis, and John Dawlish. He then told them his name, being sure to include the fact he did not like being called Caradoc, and he sat down.

After a few more moments the door opened again and there stood another boy their age, he asked to join them, and introduced himself as William, or Will, Fudge. Doc knew that all of them would be good friends, it seemed like it would be hard not to. They then were herded off the train and into boats, the 3 boys were put in their own, and Doc was placed with a bloke called Davey Gudgeon and a girl named Glenda Chittock. He liked them both as well, and bid them farewell as they made land at the castle. The castle completely blew Doc away. It was more than he had ever dreamed about. It was large, and intimidating, but it had a homey feel that drew him in. He never wanted to leave, not unless forced.

After they got out of the boats they were moved towards the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall talked to them about Houses, points, and some other things that Doc hadn't paid much attention to. His attention span was notoriously short. Then, after a few agonizing moments of waiting, they were moved in the large, expansive room to be sorted. The amount of people in the room alone made Doc feel overwhelmed, but also excited. He enjoyed a challenge. All of his confidence washed away though as he stood facing the Sorting Hat.

Doc waited after a few were called before him, but with the last name Dearborn, he was one of the first called. He walked up, sat on the stool, and felt the hat place on his , Mr. Dearborn. Not a bad mind, fairly brave as well. Not to mention a bit sly. There is also kindness in there, but also a thirst to prove yourself. But where to put you…Definitely not Hufflepuff, perhaps not Slytherin either. I'll have to say….Ravenclaw!

Doc beamed, knowing both of his parents had been in Ravenclaw. He knew he wasn't much of an over achiever, but he wouldn't mind wearing Blue and Bronze. He walked over confidently to the table, sat down, and watched the rest of his train mates get sorted into Ravenclaw as well. He looked around at his new found friends and house mates and couldn't help but fill with happiness. Something had been missing at home, and it wasn't until he came to Hogwarts that he filled the hole.

Hogwarts was his home, and he was the happiest he ever remembered being.


	6. The Man You've Become

Albus Dumbledore was known by many as the most brilliant, and the most eccentric wizard of his day. He always knew what to say, whether anyone understood it or not. He himself enjoyed figuring out puzzles, but more complex puzzles, like those of the human kind. He especially liked to solve his students. In times like these, he would tell himself, it's best to know who will be on the hard side, and those who will gravitate towards the easy one. One such student that he had just completed, was Caradoc Dearborn. A brilliant enough boy who had suffered more than a 18 year old boy should ever go through. A dead brother, and two dead parents. It struck a cord with Dumbledore who had lost so much himself. Dumbledore sent someone out to fetch Dearborn, he wanted a one on one conversation with the boy before determining if he was to be trusted wholeheartedly. The truth was though, Albus had already decided long ago Caradoc was to be a key member in his new organization. Through dark times comes those who shine the brightest, and Caradoc Dearborn never failed to shine.

* * *

Doc looked up from his studies, which alone could have been cause for concern, but pushing that aside he sees a student walking up to him. He doesn't know the persons name, but he does know she has a nice arse. Anyway, more towards the point she hands him a piece of parchment, from Dumbledore she said. Doc unrolls the parchment and reads it in his head:

_Dear Mr. Dearborn,_ _I request your presence in my office at 7:00PM sharp_ _Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster_ _P.S I enjoy sugar quills_

Short and to the point, with what Doc assume to be the password to his office at the end. He may have been off his rocker, but Doc respected him a great deal. That could be part of the reason why he started to worry. He always tried to push pass serious things, and crack a joke instead. But with something like this he was at a loss for words. He checked his watch, saw that he had 30 minutes until the meeting, and decided it would be best if he made his way towards the office now.

As he made his way towards what he hoped wasn't his impending doom, he kept wondering and wondering what he had done to deserve this. They probably found out about that prank he pulled on MacDonald, or maybe they finally figured out who the alcohol supplier was. Whatever it was, Doc prayed to God, even though he didn't believe in one, that he wasn't about to be expelled. He felt safe in this school, and it was his only true home.

He reached the Eagle, muttered out Sugar Quills, and walked up the stairs that were revealed. He was right on time somehow, maybe all of that thinking really slowed him down. Doc lifted up his right hand into a fist and knocked three times, and the door opened. He had been in Dumbledore's office before, but those times weren't about his pranks either, but about his family. With such harsh memories flooding back, Doc contained a sob that he was surprised to feel. He was still hurting.

Doc walked up to the desk where Dumbledore sat behind, he wasn't sure if he had even noticed his entrance. But soon Dumbledore shifted his eyes over towards Doc, and smiled. "Good Evening, Mr. Dearborn, I apologize for the late notification." Dumbledore had a quiet tone, but underneath it was a tone of authority, and wisdom. Someone who had done things, and seen things. "Er, it's okay Professor, wasn't doing anything I enjoyed anyway" Any opportunity to get away from doing work was the perfect opportunity.

"You may be curious as to why you're here, and don't worry Mr. Dearborn, you aren't in any trouble. Quite the contrary really" Dumbledore paused after he spoke his lines. This statement only made Doc all the more curious. Was he to be rewarded or something? He hadn't remembered doing anything particularly worthy of an award, but then again, he wouldn't turn one down either. "Sir?" His question was very simple. He had no bloody idea what Dumbledore was going on about. "I'll put this very simply. I would like you to consider joining the Order of the Phoenix. It's an organization I started in order to put a stop to Voldemort and his followers. It is of utmost importance that this conversation on this topic is kept between us. This organization is a secret, as are its members. The less people know about it, the more success that shall be reaped. Now I understand this is a lot of information to take in, but Mr. Dearborn, I've seen you grow up, perhaps sooner than I would have liked, but you have done some growing. You have suffered much, but you haven't let those down turns scare your soul. You still remain whole, and full of life. I would be honored if you would join me in the fight, after graduation of course. I would like it if you would decide in the next 24 hours, and if you decide to turn down my offer do not worry about offending an Old Man. You must choose whatever is best for yourself."

Doc was speechless. He couldn't quite come up with words to say in response to that, except, he could come with words. He had never been so sure of something in his entire life. He hadn't known what he wanted to do when he graduated, but this opportunity was being thrown in his lap and he would be an idiot if he didn't accept.

"I don't need 24 hours, sir, I'd like to join the Order" And with those words Caradoc Dearborn put his life on the line to put a stop to Voldemort and his followers. He didn't choose the easy way out of the situation, he looked straight on into the uncertain future and for once saw not black, but a collage of reds. Whether they meant death, or victory, he wasn't sure. But he wanted to do this more than anything


	7. The Darkest Day

He knew this mission wasn't going to turn out well, he had had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach when he heard what was going to happen. Plans that were too perfect were always the ones that worried Doc the most. Maybe this was because every mission that seemed perfect ended up with another body to be buried, and another funeral to avoid. But it never stopped him from going on them. He couldn't let someone else, someone who didn't realize the horrors of war, take his place. He wasn't a Gryffindor, but he had a heart and a brain, and he knew when to use both.

He was crouched behind a bush when it began. At first everything was silent and still, and the plan seemed to have been working flawlessly. Doc didn't let his guard down though, he never let his guard down unless he was with Mary, and those moments seemed to be dwindling as well. Mary. Her face, her voice, the feel of her skin, the air that she breathed, everything about her had captured him completely, and how he was really starting to worry that the moments they had spent together previously would be their last.

Suddenly, flashes of light started pouring out from everywhere. If he wasn't so terrified he might have even described the scene as beautiful. It wasn't though. It was deadly, and with every flash his heart beat started picking up. His wand was drawn and Doc started spewing out spells in every direction possible. None of them deadly, but all of them useful and purposeful. It wasn't enough though. He could tell they were outnumbered. They must have known they were coming. Suddenly he was angry. A spy. It was the only thing that made sense. There was a spy in the Order. His thoughts were quickly silenced though. He was stunned. Frozen. He couldn't move his body, he couldn't even blink. All he could see was the dark outlines of his attackers, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He was being taken, and he had a feeling that when it came to killing, they used it like the Order used stunning jinxes; often, and without care.

* * *

The first thing Doc noticed when he woke up was that he could move his limbs again. He had never been so happy in his life for the ability to simply wiggle his fingers and toes. He breathed out a sigh of relief, and then felt himself cringe at the pain that came with breathing. Fuck, he muttered to himself. The guards had tortured him, even while he was asleep. Guards. Doc shot straight up, experiencing more excruciating pain, but focusing more on the part that he was now in a jail cell. If he could even call it that. It would more accurately be described as Hell.

As Doc took in his surroundings he noticed that he was indeed alone. There was no movement or sound except for the occasional rat that scurried by, looking for crumbs of food that were nonexistent. Doc himself was hungry, but most importantly thirsty. Every movement he made became forced, and every breath he took, painful. He could tell he was in rough shape, but he just wanted to know where the fuck he was and why he wasn't dead yet.

His question was soon answered. A cloaked figure walked towards the entrance of the cell. There was no sound to the beings footsteps, only the wooshing of the cloak as the wind hit it. The figure unlocked the cell with a swish of a wand, and walked in.

Doc could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand, and the goosebumps start to crop up on his arms. He didn't know what scared him more, the certain death that was to come, or the torture that he had been warned that was inflicted on prisoners. Either way when the cloaked figure approached him he didn't put on a smile for them. Instead he chose that opportunity to press himself further against the wall, perhaps hoping that he'd melt into it completely.

"Caradoc Dearborn" The voice was cold, ice cold. It pierced through the air, and whipped out at him. His heart, once calm and slowly beating, started to race. He knew who this was. He was the reason for the war in the first place. This was the man who killed his parents, and his brother, and his friends. This was the man that must be killed, but in this position Doc knew it was suddenly reversed completely. He wasn't suppose to remain being a prisoner for long.

After a few deafening more seconds, Voldemort spoke again, "I've heard much about you, blood traitor. You've lost your family, and you started dating a Mudblood, and you're even in the Order. Such an interesting thing for a Pureblood with such credentials as yourself. Surely you'll join me? Unless of course you'd rather die." At the mention of Mary, Doc's fists clenched. He knew, he knew about everything. Suddenly the anger that he felt outweighed the fear, and Doc spoke in an equally harsh tone "I will never join you, and I'll never give you any information on the Order. _Fuck off_". He relized the stupidity of his actions once he felt the pain spreading. He was being hit with the cruciatus curse, but he refused to scream out. He refused to give this murderer the satisfaction of it. But the pain was increasing by the second, and finally he let out a scream. He felt broken. He was broken.

"Such a pity. Perhaps I should have gone after the mudblood first, I'm sure we could have arranged something then" His words almost seemed conversational, but there was still the lingering darkness that surrounded them. "LEAVE HER ALONE!" Doc screamed, and the pain suddenly stopped. He let out a breath of relief, maybe hoping that somehow Voldemort actually respected his bravery. But he was wrong, so utterly and completely wrong.

He looked into Voldemorts eyes, and saw the red that many had talked about. There was no goodness in there, only hatred. But Doc still held out to the hope that he would be set free. Maybe just given a warning and sent on his way. He wanted so badly to kiss Mary one last time, or hug his mates like he so often did now. But he would never have his chance.

Quietly, without a stutter, the last words that Doc heard before he died were spoken, "Avada Kedavra"


	8. A Common Thing

It was a fairly normal day in Hogwarts. Drama was ensuing of course, and there was a large selection of tasty items to indulge oneself in. All in all, Doc decided it was a rather nice morning. Except for the fact that it was indeed a Monday morning, which shattered the illusion immediately. Mail would be coming soon, Doc thought absent mindedly. He wasn't too concerned with the mail. He didn't order the Prophet, and his parents never wrote him. Really, the mail every morning was something that Doc just observed, but never really took part in. This morning however, as he sat amongst his fellow Ravenclaw friends, he got his first letter since 2nd year. There was hesitation as Doc grabbed the parchment from the Owl, and then fed it a piece of his bacon. The bird flew off, and Doc gently started to tear open the envelope. It didn't have any address on it, except that it was for him. His fingers gently ripped an opening, and glided out the letter that was inside. As soon as he unfolded the letter he knew he wouldn't be able to continue.

The letter began;

_Dear Caradoc Dearborn,_ _We regret to inform you_

He couldn't read much further, already a lump building in his throat. He knew what this meant, one of his parents died, or perhaps both. The letter was going to discuss how they died, or maybe even how great of people they were. It was going to tell Doc that they were sorry that such loving parents had departed this world. But Doc knew the truth. Those people, his parents, they never loved him. They weren't great people. They were nothing. But his hands were shaking, and he was scrambling to make sure no one noticed the sudden outburst of emotion. From the time he saw the owl, to the time he put down the letter he hadn't noticed anyone else. But he could feel curious stares. He could feel the questions in everyone's mind. He couldn't take it. He was so angry, and sad, and perhaps there was even some relief mixed in there that only added to the guilt.

Continuing to ignore his fellow students, he picked up the letter again and continued to read.

_We regret to inform you that your parents, Alexander and Ophelia Dearborn, have been killed in an accident. They have asked that these other two attached items be sent to you upon their death, and would also like you to know that their funerals have already been planned, and the dates already set._ _Your parents were truly wonderful people who loved you very much,_

It was at that point that he stopped, crumpled up the paper, uncrumpled it, and then proceeded to rip it up with a ferocity he didn't know he had. Now he was really getting looks. But he didn't give a rats arse. Liars. All of them were liars.

He rose from his seat, gathering up the ripped parchment and the envelope that still contained two other letters. He rushed through the hallways, and up to the Ravenclaw Tower. He wasn't even aware of the question that was being asked, nor was he aware of the answer that he had given. But he was in, and he continued to race straight towards his Dorms. He made a quick glance around the room, locked the door, ran to his bed, drew the curtains and cast a Silencing charm.

There he wept. Not even knowing the full horrors of what had actually happened, nor the true feelings that his parents held for him. Still, he wept. Maybe it was because he really did love his parents no matter what he tried to tell himself, or perhaps it was sheer relief that he would no longer go home during the Holiday to an empty and cold home. Or maybe it was because there would be no more painful memories of his deceased brother. No more reason to return home and experience the pain of ten thousand knives stabbing him as he stepped across the threshold. He was free from it, and yet he felt more confined than ever before.

* * *

Doc would rise that morning and open the remaining contents in the envelope. Many more tears would fall, and many more classes would be missed. The days seemed long, and the air seemed cold. He felt empty, numb even. His parents had loved him. They were murdered. His brother was murdered. He was alone.


End file.
